


More Lost Than the Moon

by Aurastorm



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F, Witch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurastorm/pseuds/Aurastorm
Summary: When a mysterious attack happens in Angela and Fareeha’s home, the two are forced to face problems and secrets they had both decided to leave unspoken for years.





	1. New

Fareeha and Angela had met many years ago. 

 

Fareeha’s mother, Ana, was captain of the squad Angela worked under as medic, and she got to be Fareeha’s partner in crime, since they were both fairly young and Angela had truly missed out on her childhood. While Ana never liked to admit it, Fareeha was a troublemaker because of her insistence in being a protector and that led to many, many fist fights in the school yard. Angela always nursed the bruises and wounded ego of the young Amari. She was sad when she heard that Fareeha had gone to Canada to continue her schooling.

 

When they met again, now both soldiers, Angela was impressed at how much Fareeha had grown. Now a woman of twenty-seven,  she had many awards and recognitions as a soldier and leader and wore the same title of Captain as her soon to retire mother. Her specialty was recovery missions, and many times she went in with Angela to save either a member of their team or civilians caught behind lines. They were quick to trust one another, a bond that grew as their work continued. It was no surprise that they became lovers within a month of their reunion. Once the conflicts ended, their affair did not and they decided to move in together and enjoy some well deserved rest from the field. They had both seen enough for a life time and could use a bit of civilian life until the next recall by the UN to fight for justice.

 

They decided to settle in London, where Angela was hired to work at a prominent hospital, while Fareeha took up work at a high end mechanics shop for custom builds: from cars, to trucks, to anything that could be rolled down the front door. If it had a motor, Fareeha could fix it. They bought a one floor home with plenty of space, an office for Angela and a garage for Fareeha to tinker, a bedroom for them and a spare for any guests, namely Ana. They had finally settled into a domestic routine, and had found their happily ever after.

 

It was often that Angel a stayed at work late. So her girlfriend would call her now and again to remind her to take care of herself too. That was around two am. It wasn’t till four am that Angela got home and found their home a torn up mess and a hardly conscious Fareeha equally torn up. It was luck that she did not get out even later: she was able to rush Fareeha to the hospital and demand attention stat. That morning was long. She stayed with Fareeha and filled a police report, though it was dismissed quickly as an animal attack. Angela was furious, demanding that there be a follow up, certain an animal could not stun and take out a military veteran as well armed as Fareeha. In the end it does not incite further investigation and it is a long week before Fareeha is released to go back home….


	2. Waning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha comes home after a fateful encounter with death

“Are you certain you can walk?” asks Angela, unsure if her partner should be in her own two feet after what happened a week ago. She sees a little sore gait Fareeha carries herself with, body still bandaged and stiff after landing in the hospital in critical health. What worries her the most is that not once has Fareeha said  _ I had worse  _ or  _ It is not that bad _ . Odd when that was usually the first thing out of her mouth when she got hurt.

“Yes, I am sure, I am dying to stretch a bit,” Fareeha replies, pulling up her keys to open the door and come inside, pleasantly surprised by coming to a house undisrupted, like it had never gotten trashed, “You know, I did not expect the place to be so clean-“

“I had a week to have it cleaned up, I did not want you coming home to a mess, specially since I am sure you miss your own space, your bed, your couch….” she trails off, setting a gentle hand in the small of Fareeha’s back, helping her along if only emotionally,” I know I do.”

“You really didn’t have to go through all that, ya amar,” the soldier leans back and placed a kiss on Angela’s forehead, “But you are right though. I could use a bath and some junk food.”

She playfully leans heavily on Angela who grunts trying to support her girlfriend’s weight up, although that makes her laugh. “No baths, and why junk food? You have never been one to like fast food.”

“Blame the hospital food then, I am starved!” She grins as Angela shoves her along onto the couch, where she reclines setting an arm on the back rest, the doctor sitting and leaning into the space made against her injured girlfriend, resting against her with a content sigh, “Feels good to be home.” 

 

She knew it was inevitable. Angela wanted to ask, but Fareeha had largely ignored her questions, and it worried her when the egyptian tended to wear her heart on her sleeve around her. Her hand soothingly rubs Fareeha’s chest, the captain having closed her eyes to enjoy the quiet comfort. “Fareeha? What happened that night?”

Annoyed, she groans her response, “I have told you the truth, I do not remember. I think I was on the phone with you? Either that or about to call you, next thing I know I am in the hospital.” She opens an eye to glance at Angela, whose concerned eyes are on her, “I’m alright, ya amar. We will install security cameras, if something is out there we get it filmed and hunt it down. It won’t happen again.” 

“If you are so sure,” Angela closes her eyes and sets her head down against Fareeha’s heartbeat. It was pointless to press for details, there was no way she would get anything out of her right now, “We should get you dinner.”

—

 

When she said “dinner,” Angela did not mean  _ her _ . And yet, somehow, fetching the keys had turned into Fareeha holding her from behind and pulling her onto her lap. That escalated  _ very _ quickly.  Before she knew it, they were in bed and the clothes were not coming off swiftly enough. Saying it was the heat of the moment seemed to come short. When she woke up her body was  _ very aware _ of what last night had been like.

Fareeha? Sleeping blissfully, snoring even, right next to her, a hand over her lap as the doctor sat up and rubbed the back of her neck. It had been years since Fareeha made her _ this _ sore: after years as lovers they knew each other front and back, and extending their foreplay was a choice since they knew where to press for a response they craved.  Her arms and, she gambled, her back were covered in scratches and hickies. Her thighs? Covered in bites and nips. She gave a slightly discontent huff but couldn’t be all angry. She had enjoyed herself thoroughly, losing count of the times her girlfriend made her moan. She rubs her cheek, and decides perhaps it was time for coffee. It was early, and hopefully Fareeha would sleep a little longer, so she had time to enjoy her cup in silence, maybe read some files or news, catch up on work.  And so Angela slides out of bed to go do that, slipping on what she was pretty sure was Fareeha’s shirt.

 

She checks the news for similar occurrences, anything like what happened to Fareeha. Tablet in one, mug in another she sits at the counter, looking for something that rang any bells. Yet it seemed to be as the police had said: some kind of freak accident, something that shouldn’t have happened,  a luck of the draw for Fareeha to have been attacked. It did not sit well with her, not at all. Worst of all was that if she admitted she had a nagging hunch things would surely get complicated. It was like admitting you had a problem, it meant being unable to ignore it further, and that in itself was a terrifying possibility. Her mind starts to spin the worst possible scenario as she bites at her thumb.

 

“Ya amar, its early, come back to bed.”

Fareeha’s arms slide around her shoulder and over her front, still mostly naked. The captain tended to only wear sweats around the house, so it did not make Angela’s mind roam anymore. What does make her mind roam is the whiny tone to Fareeha’s voice, and feeling of her nuzzling into her neck,huffing what was probably morning breath. In all honesty, what always got her was how much like  _ home _ Fareeha was, the vulnerability of her, walking out to look for Angela first before even thinking of getting changed or showered or food or anything, missing the closeness they had grown fond of in their lengthy relationship.

“And have you mess me up again? No thank you,” she teases,”You left me all marked up, liebling, you know that’s a no-no.” It was. Since Angela worked in a hospital and wanted to keep a highly professional profile, Fareeha was not allowed to mark her anywhere a t-shirt and a skirt did not cover.

“Mmrf,” she makes that disgruntled half asleep noise, licking Angela’s neck for what is  _ literally no good reason, _ “Sorry  _ liebling _ -“ She struggles with the pronunciation, but she tries, and that in itself is another of Angela’s weaknesses, “I think I just missed you that much. A week without my angel is difficult, y’know?”

“You also apparently missed chicken nuggets, and you didn’t leave those scratched up like a cat post-“

“You say that like you didn’t wake the next door neighbors up from how much you enjoyed yourself,” Fareeha purrs against her neck, grinning as she sees the back of Angela’s neck go red.

“I should check your injuries and make sure you did not open something, stud,” Angela clears her throat and reluctantly shakes her lover off who steps back and allows the doctor to turn the stool and work, chuckling a bit at the pout and knit eyebrows Angela sported, “May as well take the chance of you not wearing a shirt.”

 

Fareeha is moved this way and that, not worried at all since she felt surprisingly well. She feels Angela trace her skin and look for something. After a few minutes of prodding, turning, searching and squeezing Angela’s hands come off and Fareeha turns over to look at her girlfriend, who looks rather concerned, “Well?”

“There’s nothing.”

“Pardon?”

Angela shakes her head, “You are fully healed.”


	3. Quarter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This hurts me more than you.

For a couple of days, things were as good as they could be. Angela went back to work after two days, back to her usual routine while her girlfriend rested. She had a few days to rest despite the fact she was healed, so Fareeha installed the cameras and enjoyed the time off. She spent a lot of time eating and exercising, feeling like either she was starved or dying to do something. She always seemed restless to get busy on just about anything.  Things were normal, and Angela could almost forget all the trouble that was probably coming their way. 

 

She could tell, or maybe she just knew it. Fareeha’s mood swings, the constant need to eat or be active, seeming two times more jealous than she typically was when Angela spoke or was with someone at work she didn’t know, almost possessive in nature. And Fareeha seemed unaware, or decided to not talk about it, usually shushing any question by latching to Angela or simply going off to do some mundane task. She was avoiding talking about it, and Angela knew there was creeping worry in Fareeha’s mind. Unlike Angela though, Fareeha had no idea of what was happening. The longer they did not address the problem the worse things would get. 

 

When the full moon was upon them, Angela had to make the choice, regardless of anything. 

 

Fareeha had returned to work, but that night Angela took the day off, knowing she would need two days to deal with it all and prep what she had to have at hand. It had been so long. She would tell Fareeha to come home early for a little date, cook her something meaty like steak and douse the meal with tranquilizers. Angela would then be able to move Fareeha easily enough and get her somewhere where she could work on the rest of the ritual. She was a doctor, drugging someone was easy enough, but she felt horrible for having to do something so brash. It was a necessary evil however, lest Fareeha do something reckless or hurt someone. … May as well still dress nice, fool her girlfriend fully.

 

Fareeha came home around five pm, still in her khaki pants and work boots, wearing a gray tank top that showed off her muscles well. She was tired and crabby, but happy to pull Angela into her arms and give her a fierce kiss— one the doctor has to part from under the excuse that dinner would get cold. She feels Fareeha’s hands trace over the small black cocktail dress that contrasted with the red high heels. Still, the Egyptian nods and lets Angela guide her to the table where dinner was waiting, pressing one or two kisses to Angela’s neck before she takes a seat and gladly receives a plate her plate. For a bit, they talk like normal, chatting about their days and the like— And Angela worries the egyptian seems unbothered by the medicine in her meal. They had been eating and chatting for about thirty minutes and Fareeha seemed unbothered.

 

For a bit things seem to have gone awry only for the drowsy to come to her girlfriend slowly but surely. The egyptian stands no chance as she topples over, soundly asleep. Gods, it was so guilt inducing to know she just had to drug her love, but she attempts to look over it. She drags her to the bathroom and pulls her onto the tub (Fareeha was certainly all muscle,) cuffing one of  her wrists to the towel rack slightly to the left. Never does she stop muttering small apologies in every language she knows.

 

With an exposed arm tied to the towel rack, she starts to etch into it with a scalpel, glad that Fareeha sleeps through this gruesome bit. A small glyph, thanks to how steady her surgeon hands are. She cleans it up and sets a large bandage over it.  That was the hard part …. but she will keep Fareeha bound for safety. She has to do her own glyph after all, her she does not clean and bind, continuing her work and pouring the concoction she had prepared the day before. It burns the touch, but she thinks this will suffice. She hopes so because Fareeha is coming to, groaning in the bathtub. Angela makes haste, while the soldier comes to, tugging at the cuffs. 

 

Her eyes search and find Angela, whose arm bled into the sink. “ _ Angela? _

 

—-

The night was fuzzy. It blended in and out of focus, like when someone attempts to fix the image in a camera shot only to make it worse. Fareeha was unsure of what had happened. She remembered being cuffed. She remembered Angela holding her face and quickly speaking to her. There was the smell of blood, so thick she swore she could see it fill the bathroom. The situation was akin to being drunk enough to see stars. After that, things got worse. 

 

She recalls splitting pain. Distant talking. It was all kind of like a fever dream. Now she is cold, very much so. In part, because London was chilly in the early mornings, and in part because she was completely naked. What the hell had happened last night? Her jaw feels sore, like it was locked in place, and standing up only ends with her wobbling to the side and almost collapsing. Fareeha feels too weak to stand. For a bit, she huddles against the wall, cold, confused, and oddly scared. After twenty minutes she starts to get up once more, noticing she was in an alleyway, probably in the outskirts of the city. Fareeha has to lean on the wall as she tries to get to the end of the alleyway — a car stops there.

 

The soldier can only stare, feeling exhausted, like she can’t possibly fight or argue with whoever just brought the car over and would probably call the police on her naked ass for indecent exposure. Her knees start to fail, but she is caught, a coat placed around her. “I’ve got you,” Angela says, helping Fareeha straighten up and start the short walk to the car, “Mein liebe, are you hurt?” Before she knows it she’s in the car, everything is a little unclear but she knows she is sat in the car with the heating in. Angela must be in the car too, it smells of her. 

 

Her hands rub Fareeha’s cheeks and then her hands, bringing them to her mouth to blow hot air onto them,”Oh liebling, you are freezing!” She must have been, she was shivering and her jaw clattering a bit. Angela reaches into the seat behind them and pulls out a blanket wrapping it around Fareeha, then putting her arm around her and pulling her over a bit, attempting to hug and warm up the egyptian. They must have sat like that for a while, Fareeha wasn’t sure of much, simply appreciating that her body wasn’t chittering further. They sit in silence and once she is warm, Angela dares to drive them away from the backstreet.

 

—

 

Angela sees how Fareeha rests her head on the window completely spent, and even thinks she sees her black out once or twice before she truly dozes off. It wrenches her heart, but Angela knows there is nothing to do but let her rest. Before going home she stops at a local fast food chain and orders a bulk of food, figuring that Fareeha would need lots of food and carbs to get going again after the night she had. A handful of those cheap burgers, a drink and some fries should be enough: and a coffee for Angela.

 

Once the food is in the car, the egyptian is immediately awake, stomach growling. Angela pulls out a burger and hands it over to her girlfriend that hungrily digs in. “You must be starved,” Angela sighs, getting a small nod as Fareeha eats. After a few bites she relaxes at last, “How are you feeling?”

“I feel sore, but better now that I ate something,” she replies lowering her hands a bit, peering at the half eaten burger. Her nose scrunches a bit as she turns her wrist to see the glyph etched into her skin.

 

“What happened last night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ran a twitter poll and the furries wanted this so I DELIVERED. I will upload a chapter for Icarus next no worries \o/
> 
> As usual, feel free to find me in twitter @Aura_Stormgirl <3


	4. A Comet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my reality

Fareeha had sat in the living room for a bit while Angela went and retrieved the laptop with the security camera feeds— plenty of time for the woman to fall asleep, stark naked under the blanket Angela had brought her in. Despite how annoying this was, Angela knew they have a full month to prepare. She sets the laptop down and climbs over Fareeha, nestling down between her girlfriend and the back of the couch, resting her chin over her head. A nap wouldn’t hurt anyone, and it was nice to tell themselves everything would be fine. 

 

They must have rested a few hours, because Angela woke up to Fareeha pressed to her yawning against her neck. “Mein stern, you should get up,” the doctor hums, gently playing with her hair, “Poor sweetheart, you must be spent.”

“The couch is too comfortable,” Fareeha is still blissfully forgetting the night before,nuzzling against her lover, “You aren’t helping, ya amar.” 

“We have to talk though,” she kisses the mechanic’s forehead, “I will reheat some lunch for you, okay?”

 

Fareeha nods, and helps the doctor climbing over her. While Angela cooked, the woman went to get a shower and dress. After the nap and some food, she felt much, much better.  She doesn’t bother with jeans, coming out with some basketball shorts and a tank top. When she gets two cup of coffees, she brings one to Angela who sets lunch on the table and sits. They always sat close, and Angela loved the little playful knee bumps. “Alright, all good?”

A little nod as the egyptian takes a mouthful of what's probably hamburger helpers of sorts.

“Perfect, now we can talk about last night.” 

 

Angela takes Fareeha’s hand and turns it, tracing the scarred glyph with her other finger. She has to inhale and breath, knowing that deep down, the love of her life wouldn’t leave her. “Fareeha, I know it will sound outrageous. But please, listen to me, for I speak the truth. I believe an old rival of mine has cursed you with lycanthropy.  This glyph is a sort of seal, it allows me to stop you if you are to go a muck,” Angela shows her larger glyph, “Though even in  _ that _ form you were kind and instead ran away— The point is, we must be careful. This will not change your way of life whatsoever. We will learn of your condition and learn to live with it, yes?” Her hands lock on Fareeha’s hand. She hadn't looked up yet, but when she does, she sees that Fareeha has a sort of smile and mildly confused face.

 

“Fareeha?” She tries to prompt the woman after her little rant, “I’m a witch? Yes…? From the eighteenth century —“

“Haha, okay. Alright, that’s cute.”

“I’m not kidding, Fareeha, I mean it.”

“Right, just tell me what I drank last night so I avoid it.”

“ _ Fareeha.” _

“ Is this why you wore that sexy witch outfit to the Shimada halloween party? If you wanted me to dress up as a werewolf you could have asked — Is this a kink— Oh I get it!! It’s a roleplay scene! I can work with that, babe!”

“ _ Fareeha!”  _ She opens the laptop and shoves it in her direction, “I am very serious.” The smile fades slowly before the soldier’s eyes turn to the laptop. She presses play. 

 

What the camera had recorded made her heart throb and stomach drop. So she  _ had _ been cuffed to the bathroom, there  _ had _ been blood in the sink, and she  _ had  _ her bones rearranged into some kind of quadruped beastly thing that looked half able to stand on two legs— the footage looked like the CGI final film a student would summit for a thesis or something.  Angela seemed to have hesitated because the  _ werewolf _ made it out the door and the house.  Fareeha wasn’t paying enough attention at first but she then noticed Angela — just fixing things. Not with tools just with a wave of her hand. The towel rack was back in its spot, the door was reframed, the couch that got clawed as the werewolf jumped on and off it fixed…. Angela, looking to the camera in guilt, lowering her eyes and then going out after her girlfriend.

 

Fareeha covers her mouth pensively, as reality sinks in. “A witch…?”

“Your mother found me in Switzerland’s woods. She had gotten lost after escaping a mission. The Omnics had torn my home and my cover. I healed her with what I had, and she said she would protect me. Ana brought me back to her base. For years she made sure I stayed safe and hidden, and eventually… I wanted to help too. So, I joined a college, got my medical degree and went on that path. I was already very old, but I have always looked young enough. The nanites ended up becoming a great cover for me, as you probably understand,” she sets her hand on Fareeha’s, “I fell in love with you, and they have been the best seven years of my existence, Fareeha. I am sorry someone from my past came to haunt you.”

“I — I see.”

 

It's obvious swallowing is difficult for Fareeha. The doctor offers her the cup of coffee. That explained why her mother had insisted on Fareeha not pursuing this romance. She sets the cup down, this was a lot to take it, especially for someone had had never been religious or superstitious. This was surreal, “Who— Who came in that night?”

“I believe an old rival’s familiar or something of the like. Lycanthrophy is hard to pass to someone, but a curse could do it just fine if processed correctly. I think  _ she _ sent someone in to do it, and that's who mauled you,” Angela responds whole heartedly, earning a nod from Fareeha, who looks at their matching glyphs. 

 

For a minute she thinks, internalizes what has happened. She inhales and exhales.

“We should probably get this made into tattoos, they will be much less shady if we ink them.”

“A tattoo?” Angela had never considered that and thinking on it she eyes the marks she had made, “You are not… mad with me?”

“Angela, I love you. I know you made these wanting to ensure our safety. That has always been out job, and while it will take me time to internalize the fact my girlfriend is an immortal, two hundred plus supernatural being of sorts, you are still Angela.  _ My _ Angela,” She brings up Angela’s hand and kisses the knuckle softly, the doctor melting at the ever surprising love her girlfriend was capable of. She leans over and gives Fareeha a firm, passionate kiss, the kind that are nothing short of an impulse to show one's love.

 

———>

 

Getting a tattoo ended up not being as horrible as she had expected. Fareeha went first, having experience with getting one, and in a much more painful spot. It went without a hitch, and when it was Angela’s turn, the two held hands the whole time. Bonus? With enhanced healing that meant the ink was healed by night time. 

 

Angela called in for Pharah, saying she had a cold and a fever. Easy to fake sickness when your girlfriend is a doctor. They had a few days to talk things over and spend time together figuring out what their plan going forward was. They had the rest of the night for now, and they agreed to start working on the werewolf stuff the next day.

 

It was refreshing, not having to hide her magic tendencies, and Fareeha only seemed curious. There was no nerves, no fears. Fareeha  _ knew _ Angela, and so the worst that happened was Fareeha asking some questions about the witch’s story. “So, you don’t age or die?”

“I can be killed by fire,” Angela says feeding Fareeha a chip as they watched a movie. The new werewolf was sat on the floor leaned back against the sofa between Angela’s knees, “But no, I do not age. Once you sign up to be a witch, its permanent until you are killed.” 

“Does that mean I will die before you?”

“Almost certainly,” It had been a question that had haunted Angela since the moment she realized she had feelings for the captain, “Though your curse means you will live much longer.”

“You were willing to let me die?”

“Fareeha, outliving your loved ones is the worst curse,” She leans down and kisses the top of her significant other’s head, “I have outlived my family, my friends, lovers…”

“Lovers?” Fareeha had  _ never _ heard Angela speak of lover before. The doctor stuffs her mouth with two chips, prompting her to be quiet and watch the movie.

 

For a bit, she let it rest, but the curiosity ate at her. Obviously, Angela wanted to avoid it, it made no sense to dwell on the past sure— but Angela also knew Fareeha had been quite popular through her early twenties. She had always wondered how someone had not come in and snatched the doctor while they could. Why would they not? A beautiful, smart woman?! Fareeha wasn’t paying attention to the movie now, thinking instead of that. Wondering if she had ever been out done by another.  Honesty right?

 

The witch plays with Fareeha’s hair, not needing to hear the soldier speak to know what she was thinking,  “I had my moments, being immortal can get quite lonely. I once had an affair with a young prince who was betrayed by his brother. He hardly survived and he traded his services for another chance at vengeance. The spell kept him alive till he achieved his revenge — I thought he would be smart enough to know he could stay with me, but instead he ended up being consumed by resentment and dying after he killed his brother. The young man, he sort of reminds me of Genji, you know?”

“Sounds like him. They say history repeats itself,” Fareeha comments, “Any other outstanding ones?”

This time, she hesitates, though for other reasons. It seems to be like reopening an old wound, and for a second the witch is lost in the past. Fareeha gently rubs her knee looking up to the blonde. “There was a knight. She was the most wonderful fighter, lead so many, fought for more. Ah, she was so deft with the sword,” she shakes her head remembering, “Originally, she was sent in to kill me. I was living in  _ pagan _ beliefs after all, but she hesitated. I think she never expected someone so  _ human. _ She went back carrying a human heart, saying she had slain me… and proceeded to come back to visit me.”

Fareeha is quiet, listening to the longing in Angela’s voice, knowing this did not have a happy ending.

“We were lovers for many years, she always came to me. It was the highlight of my life in that time period. I was truly in love. Eventually, the royalty found out. They judged her a traitor and— and burned her at the stake in her armor,” her voice cracks, “I went to her execution, I promised her I’d break her out, but she did not allow me, saying it would put me at risk…. gods her screams.” 

 

By now the werewolf turned around and knelt up, cupping Angela’s face to wipe at her tears. “I did something horrible — After they threw her into the pits I— I brought her back. She was—“

“It didn’t work,” Fareeha concludes that sentence knowing it was only distressing her lover more and more.

“She was a  _ shadow _ of who she was before. Even though she was a spirit captured in an armor, I knew she was in pain, hardly speaking, hardly moving unless I spoke to her. I had to let her go,” Angela leans into Fareeha’s arms. The soldier hugs her close, caressing her head, trying to soothe her, “It was so long ago, Fareeha, I can’t remember her face or her voice. Only sometimes do I remember when I dream of her…”

“ _ Ya amar _ , I am sorry I asked.”

Angela is left softly crying in her arms for a bit, while the captain bolds her tenderly, kissing her head. 

 

When bedtime came around, Fareeha still felt horrible. She spoiled the doctor best she could; little foot rubs, some shoulder massages, neck kisses, tucking her in, spooning her. When it was over, Angela was sleeping like a baby in her arms. So small, so gentle — And to think she had lived far longer than anyone she knew. She knew every beauty mark, every scar in this woman’s body, and yet she had never suspected what she learned in the last two days. Her world had gotten uprooted and upturned. Everything had suddenly changed, and the woman gently snoring in her arms was fully to blame for it.

 

Yet, as she saw the moon behind the window pane, Fareeha had no fear, no regrets, and absolutely no hesitation as she held her most beautiful doctor close to her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone told me they liked it and I spent all night writing this and only stopped because it very late :D


	5. Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stars align, and for once things go well

“You are eating so much.”

Fareeha had always had an fearsome appetite, but even then, it was worse than ever now. The soldier nods, gulping a bite from her second cheeseburger, “I’m starved! I am sorry— I’m going to have to work out so much—“

“To be fair, I think its the moon, so I do not blame you— Well, not entirely.” Mercy chuckles, knowing that she was correct;  yet it was cute to see Fareeha worry about her figure even in such situations. The woman worked out so much, she doubted she would even show any trace of body fat. A shame really, all the muscles, while sexy, were a bit firm for cuddles. Maybe that's why Pharah always said the toned but soft Angela was the best of both world: not that Angela ever skipped on a chance to worship her abs. Entirely off topic, she decides only adding a, “You will probably burn all those carbs tonight.”

“Is it that harsh on me?” She asks, popping a fry in her mouth, “I don’t remember last moon at all.”

“It's hard on your body either or, so as I said, it makes sense you are eating so much. This, like your mood swings, increased sex drive, and constant fidgeting are signs of your body responding to the stimuli the moon is enacting on you. Did you get all your affairs in order, _mein stern?”_ The witch asks, patting at her lover’s hand. She gets a little nod and a smile, “Good girl. So we will try the charm and enchantment, see if it restrains the curse, and if not you will have plenty of space to run in the wilds and stretch your legs.”

“And you will come find me right?” Fareeha asks as if she needed the reaffirmation.

Angela nods,turning her wrist up to show the glyph turn tattoo that match her girlfriends, “Of course, that is one of the many functions of our glyphs, sweetheart, I will be able to find you wherever you go.”

 

That brings a small smile to Fareeha’s face. While, indeed, the past two days had been a bit of a roller coaster, she was glad that Angela was here for her unconditionally.

 

They would be able to make it through anything.

 

——||

 

It was a bit of a road trip, but neither minded an excuse to spend a day together.

 

Angela had the coordinates of an old building that she had apparently used once for practicing witchcraft, back when she was actively participating in that kind of arts. She said it was a bunker left from an old political conflict, abandoned by the care personnel when it was thought to have little to no use. It was reinforced, secluded, safe and far from any prying eyes. Fareeha had expressed she was very curious about it, in part because it was an old military facility of sorts and because it seemed to represent a part of Angela’s history she had never heard of. They agree to make that their little wolf den. Though neither was sure if that was a good name for it, it would do for the time.

 

Fareeha’s jeep was more than equipped to complete the bumpy road. Nothing prevented them from packing equipment and making the drive up the mountain and into the forest. They only truly made a stop at a dinner in a small town that was at the edge of the forest for some burgers, since the werewolf insisted she needed some heavy food. After that it was another hour drive, Angela was singing horribly for Fareeha the whole way, many laughs were had and the trip was more enjoyable that either of them could have expected.

 

When they arrive, Angela is the first out the car, not in excitement but in a sort of foreboding afterthought. Fareeha had gone to the trunk to begin hefting things out of the trunk and get the first batch of things indoors; mostly to get a flashlight assuming it would be dark, since the bunker was dug into the hill side. When she gets a flashlight and the energy generator, Pharah comes to Angela’s side, who had been staring at the bunker’s entry in some sort of nostalgic trance, “It has been so many years. I never thought I’d ever return to this place.”

“Why?”

“Bad memories.”

 

She moves forward to the door, not elaborating, and her girlfriend knows better than to press the matter. The doctor shoulders it open, feeling the flashlight illuminate the way down around her shape. It was a fairly small bunker, a central room, and some doors to which Angela quickly points respectively, as if welcoming a guest to her home, “Those two doors are supply closets. I remember I stacked all the rations in one of them, the other has some things like books and extra blankets.” She looks to the end, “That’s a room with two bunk beds, and the other one is a small kitchen area, there's a spot to put some coal to cook but nothing fancy aside from a stone table and some chairs; like those are picnic areas in parks.”

“Uff! It’s cold down here—“ Fareeha shivers, setting the generator down and starting to set it up. It takes a minute but soon enough the whole central room is lit, “You wanna set up the bunk beds as a room? I don’t know if that will be free of bugs.”

“I do not know about that, this room will make the best base of operations and we can leave the kitchen as the— ah, panic room. I wonder if my magic books are still intact down here.”

 

For two hours they ferry things into the bunker. Angela had definitely left her books safely stashed as the bunker seemed to have cared for them well. They decide to put all the food products in the same closet with the emergency rations, since Angela insists that it was necessary to set up a fresh first aid kit; priorities. Fareeha? She goes about making sure the bunk beds aren’t bug ridden, and assures the doctor that aside from smelling funny, the blankets were good— they go with the emergency food, since they had brought a few extras for the bunker. Soon enough they have a cozy little fireplace to get warm by, some chairs, a radio, a digital alarm clock, a cot and a cooler with some beers and drinks (Fareeha’s idea.) The heavy chains are the last thing to be pulled in, dropped in the kitchen.

 

Over the fire, Angela was knelt, stirring something in the pot they had brought, “This potion does not always work. On a good day it stops the transformation fully, on a bad day, well, it just painfully stalls it. If it were medicine, it would never make it past testing.”

“That’s reassuring,” Fareeha was chewing on beef jerky still hungry, while  fiddling with the radio till she finds a song. She gives a little chuckle, grinning as she holds the beef jerky in her mouth like a cigarette, “Witch doctor.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” she doesn’t even dignify that pun with a glance, continuing to stir, “How long were you holding that one?”

“For like a week, not going to lie,” The soldier giggles, “It took my everything to keep it to myself that long.”

“I bet it was killing you,” She scoops some of the potion into the metal cup. It is offered for Fareeha, who takes it and sniffs it before making a face, “I cannot cook, what made you think that _this_ would taste good?”

 

She decides to chug it without a pause, though she gags and almost throws up after and immediately has to wash it down with a bottle of water, “That was horrible.”

“Get used to it, it’ll be your monthly medicine.”

“I take it all back, worst curse ever.”

Angela only scoffs and shakes her head with a small laugh of sorts. Finally, Angela is able to take a sit by Fareeha on the cushioned mat as the soldier sets the cup aside. The pilot had gotten quiet all of the sudden, a characteristic reaction Angela associated with Fareeha being hesitant, nervous or even a bit scared. It wasn’t often that Pharah showed her soft side.

 

She takes a blanket in her hands and hugs Fareeha to put it around her girlfriend in the process. Like a cat, Angela nuzzles her and gives a small purr, “You will be fine, you don’t need to be nervous.”

The egyptian gives a small sigh, setting her arm around the witch’s waist and nuzzles back, “Are you sure it is safe for you?”

“I’m a witch, there is few things that can out do me in this department,” Angela rests her head on her lover’s shoulders staring at the fire.

“So I am not dangerous?”

“Not for me. Beside, for a few moons you will be a puppy, you could hardly hurt a fly.” The idea of Fareeha as a puppy makes her chuckle, resting her hand on the woman’s knee, “It will be alright, I promise; I got you.”

The new werewolf turns a bit to face her, exhaling soft as she bumps her forehead on Mercy’s, holding the hand over her knee, “Then I have nothing to worry about.”

“Have you ever?” She teases with a sly smile, pushing her forehead against Fareeha, “I have never hesitated to fly into bullets for you.”

“And I have never hesitated to take many for you,” Fareeha chuckles, pushing back, with a grin. Its Angela who lets the little pushing turn into a kiss, fingertips caressing her lover’s cheeks.

“Yes, and I trust you with my life, from now till my last breath, my knight.”

 

Fareeha exhales after the kiss and leans in for another, one that is returned with no hesitation. She thinks it may be the moon, but her body burns. “To think I have been living with a witch and I never knew it,” Fareeha mutters against her lips, body turning to face Angela and kneel a bit. She feels the doctor adjust kneel too, face her as they kiss, “You are sneaky.”

“I had to hide many times, Fareeha,” she is now holding the egyptian’s chin as they kiss, calloused hand exploring her curves over the clothes, “It is not an easy secret to admit to.”

“Would I have ever known—“ _if I hadn’t been turned_? She can’t finish the question. They are kissing harder with less pauses, Angela is starting to unbutton her plaid shirt, and it quickly ignites her chest. Not that she has a complaint; Fareeha is already working on Angela’s jeans. What self control? They had time anyways,the alarm was set for half an hour before the moon’s highest point, when Angela expected Fareeha to transform.

 

It doesn’t take more than a minute for Fareeha’s hand to find its way into Angela’s underwear and draw little circles over her folds with her fingertips, knowing that having her hand stuffed down there would be enough to start up Angela while they continued to kiss. The doctor gives her chin and neck little nips, while her hands work Fareeha’s chest like only a doctor could. Considering she would eventually have to get naked, Fareeha hadn’t bothered with a bra, which made Angela’s job all that easier to achieve. Only when the soldier’s nipples are nice and perked does Mercy lean down to service them with her tongue, now getting an aroused groan from her lover. “I love you, Angie, with all my heart.”

“I know, I love you too, Fari.”

 

 _Things happen_ , she tells herself. Things like sex with your werewolf girlfriend in an abandoned bunker in the forest on the day of full moon. Things like said werewolf girlfriend’s middle finger rubbing against your clit in those teasing thrusting motions that you love, oh so much. Angela is soon enough grinding against Fareeha’s palm and finger to the beat of the soldier’s tempo. She has successfully marked up Fareeha’s chest with love bites, but she wants more, no needs more. A hand leaves the delicious caramel colored breast to try and shove her own jeans lower, refusing to have her mouth leave the cleft of Pharah’s chest.

 

Fareeha gets the hint, and with a bit of her shoulder  pushes Angela over, using her free hand to pull as well, helping Angela out of the jeans as best as the doctor can while still wearing her hiking boots. Once they go down on the padded mat, Angela finally lets go Fareeha’s chest wrapping her arms around lover’s neck, bracing as she feels a digit push into her while they hold eye contact. She loves how the brown eyes burn with desire, a sort of unquenched thirst that meant Fareeha could not possibly want someone as badly as she wanted Angela. A long high pitched whine leaves the witch as Fareeha wastes no time pushing in another finger. She licks over Angela’s jaw, giving it a small kiss when she finally starts to pump the blonde with two fingers. With the jeans out of the way, the black panties offered plenty of room for soldier to work with.

 _Things happen,_ Angela thinks. Thinks like fairly aggressively fucking on the mat on the floor of a bunker by a fireplace. Fareeha isn’t aware of Angela kicking a boot off to slip off the jeans  down enough that they are only technically latched on one ankle, until one of the doctor’s knees is near her sides. She quickly understands, taking the doctor by the knee and bending her a bit at an angle to better drive her fingers against one of the many sweet spots she knows her Swiss doctor has, all while  Angela’s other leg locks around her lower back. Oh, how Angela is moaning and squeaking for her, riding her fingers while she tries to hide her red face into the mane of black hair. Even in their current position, Fareeha can feel the locked leg helping Angela to bounce harder on her fingers as the end quickly approaches her. Within a few minutes, the witch is clenching around her and screaming out her name for the whole damned forest to hear. Just how she likes it.

 

Fareeha continues through the spasms until Angela relaxes and is left panting, softly whispering words into the Egyptian’s neck between huffing out hot breaths after working up quite the sweat from their little session. Yet, she is already nudging at Fareeha. The soldier knows the cue. She moves off Angela, making it a show of licking her slicked fingers as she reclines on her clean hand.

“Don’t look so smug,” Angela scoffs, kneeling as she finishes buttoning her jeans up, and kicking the other boot off fully.

“Me? Smug?” Fareeha winks, licking at the last bit before licking her lips, “Doesn’t sound like me!”

The doctor is moving over pinching at one of chocolate nipples that were showing thanks to the opened shirt, though Fareeha only exhales and sticks out her tongue. Angela closes the distance, taking her tongue into her mouth for a firm kiss. While they trade saliva, Angela’s knee presses on Fareeha’s core. _Now_ she earns a loud whine. The blonde grins against her lips, “Aw, don’t tell me you are wet?”

“Don’t make me eat you out, Ziegler-“ She whimpers out as Angela presses harder.

“Oh~ I love the idea, Fari,” she coos, reaching down to undo the captain’s pants and remove a single boot preemptively. They were going to keep it even, or so help her. Angela gropes her fully through her underwear, squeezing her handful to receive a satisfying moan from Fareeha, “Mhm, you seem quite ready, Captain.”

 

“I think I could make you cum like this,” She toys her middle finger over her folds, pressing through once or twice to tease Fareeha’s clit. She was fully resting against her, Fareeha able to hold them both up reclined on her palms. Angela knew Fareeha enjoyed the view of her playing with her, so she slid her hand up over the abs letting Fareeha feel how she had moistened up the doctor’s digits. All the captain can do is breathe heavy through an opened mouth, visibly doing her best to not lose more of her cool, “I love that face you make when I talk dirty to you, _mein stern.”_

“ _Ya amar,_ please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

“ _What?”_

“Angela, please, I’m begging you for more—“

 

Oh how could she say no to that adorable blush? Angela pulls the panties aside and finally pushes a finger into her, thumb working Fareeha’s clit. The egyptian is already humping her hand in need, Angela kissing the chest she had already marked as her own in their heat. She lets Fareeha do most of the work, slipping in a second finger when she feels like it's not enough, never stopping the service to her lover’s chest. Against her skin she whines a little, “Cum for me, Fareeha, please?”

As if on command the egyptian comes undone, collapsing against Angela as she finishes. She’s a panting mess, dark tussles wet against her skin from sweat, but it's Angela’s turn to enjoy cleaning her fingers up, “My sweet, sweet knight.”

 

—||

 

They laid in the mat for an hour or so. Fareeha had ended up dozing off for a short nap, while Angela nestled under her arm, eyes closed and enjoying the quiet of the radio playing softly. Fareeha snored, as she did when she was deeply asleep, but the witch somehow enjoyed the rumbles of the captain’s chest with the rough inhales and harsh exhales. The steady beat of her heart rattled through those breathes. Very much alive, very much a fighter.  The alarm goes off.

 

“Urgh,” Fareeha grumbled coming to her senses as she felt a small buck to her breathing from the alarm startling her.

“Is it time already?” Angela regretted the idea of having to move, voice thick with disapproval.

“I think so? I could swear it wasn’t that late….” She reaches over to the alarm clock to turn it off without moving more than necessary. A groan escapes, “I really don’t want to move, Angie.”

“There’s a chance the potion will work.”

“But we don’t know if it will, you should start chaining me.”

 

Fareeha tries to get up but Angela doesn’t budge, laying there like a stubborn cat, “Angiiiiieeeee!”

“What. There’s a chance it will work, I am too comfortable to want to move.”

“Just because you are a witch doesn’t mean you can fist fight a werewolf-“

“It sort of does, actually.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

 

Finally, Fareeha gets out from under Angela, who lays there pouting, upset. She knows her doctor, knows that she is legitimately upset that their cuddling is interrupted. For once it was her who worried for the necessary work. Leaning down, Fareeha placed a loving peck on her lover’s lips, “I’m sorry, love. But can we do this, for me?”

Blue eyes stare into hers, hating every second of realizing she really had to do this, “Alright, let’s get this over— At least the transformation itself is only forceful on one day.” Mercy sits up fixing her hair as the move go the kitchen, where the chains were.

 

Heavy chains are put around Fareeha, though she is confused at first: They hang like a sort of flower necklace and she has to keep her arms folded up keep the ones on her arm balanced on her wrist. They feel more like a decoration, and for a minute she wonders if Angela was joking around or refusing to do the binding, “Uhm, is that where they go?”

“They are charmed, they will tighten and keep you in the room, do not worry, relax as best as you can,” Angela kisses her forehead, cupping her face gently, before the soldier takes a sit on her knees, “If I see they are not necessary, I will remove them and let you stretch, I promise.”  

 

They probably sat there for a longer than either of them expected, with no other option than to wait patiently. A comment or two about the night growing chilly, maybe Fareeha rolling her shoulders nervously, Angela commenting about how they could have cuddled longer. At first she is just a little sick to the stomach, before the lightheadedness comes by. It was a feeling of suddenly knowing something was going amuck in her body. “Angie? I think I’m getting the start of it now—“

“Are you in pain?” The doctor is close now holding her hand.

“Some? It’s not horrible but like a growing soreness,” she nods groaning a little as she feels a more serious pang that subsides into a low burnn. This continues for five minutes before Angela can’t take it: Her poor girlfriend collapsing slowly, withering in the growing pain, curling further and further into herself. The potion wasn’t working and she would rather be burned at the stake than have to watch Fareeha suffer this for an indefinite amount of time. The doctor is swiftly close by her. The chains are thrown off and the witch is pulling up the pilot to help her along out of their labeled panic room..

 

“Angie no—“

“No shush, I am not going to let you sit there in what is nothing short of magical food poisoning. The potion is not working.” She lays the pained woman down on the padded mat and hurries to their pantry closet in a rush to start throwing things into the pot, she is stirring it quickly. When shecomes to Fareeha’s side,  she lifts the soldier’s head and carefully feeding her the newest concoction; surprise, it still makes her gag and stick out her tongue at the horrible flavor, “This will counter the potion I gave you earlier,”

“But—“

“No buts, the glyph will have to do.” Angela sets the mug aside and holds her hand. The soldier looks at her, nothing short of sheer fear invading her eyes. Nothing scared Fareeha more than uncertainty, a woman always in control, knowing what she was doing and how. Now at the whim of an astral body, and the prayers that nothing would go wrong tonight.

 

It doesn’t take much for her body to start to give, now not held back by the witch’s poison, painful as it was, it didn’t compare to what had been mounting after the attempt at containing her curse. Bones rearrange, bumping into one another in the process, scraping violently, and for a bit she feels like her body is not her own. She feels Angela’s hand grow smaller and smaller in her own, thoughts becoming increasingly distant. She is amazed she manages not to scream, refusing to worry Angela more than she already was.

 

Angela is well aware of the pain her lover must be in, but she has to back up once the large wolf-like shape is attempting to stand, rolling over and knocking the nearby cot aside. As she stands on four legs, the witch stands her ground, lifting her left fist  and holding it steady as the glyph glows a gentle blue: the matching mark glows on Fareeha’s front arm like appendage, causing two brown eyes to turn onto the witch’s cerulean blue ones. “ _Mein stern, I just_ need to know you are still here with me.”

They stare at one another, intent, careful, measuring the other.

 

Out pops the tip of the beast’s tongue and the nose wrinkles in disapproval, still tasting bad from the doctor’s medicine.

 

The doctor exhales relieved, dropping her hand and running to Fareeha’s side hugging her new beastial form around the neck “I knew we wouldn’t need more than the glyph.”  Clumsily the large beastial from sits back on her haunches, still figuring out the very awkward body proportions she had, “Gosh, you are enormous— Second moon and you are already growing.” Angela’s hands reach up, taking Fareeha’s face in them. No fur had grown where the soldier’s tattoos were, so the eye of Horus was still somewhat visible, as well as the glyph. On all fours, Fareeha was easily six feet tall and who knew how tall she could be on her back legs: and she was not done growing.

 

Even like this, Angela could tell her girlfriend was exhausted, so she smiles softly to her before it turns into a teasing smirk, “You have little floppy ears. Still a puppy. See? You must learn to trust me on these matters.” Angela is quickly checking the werewolf, making sure she isn’t injured and all bones at accounted for, though she notices …

 

“Fareeha, your tongue is still sticking out.” Angela nudges her maw, insisting on checking her teeth. Fareeha complies and opens up the massive jaw. While humans had thirty two pieces, wolves certain had more, and after a quick count Angela realizes she is missing teeth, “Guess those are not growing in for a few more moons, though I must say it’s a cute look on you.”

A nose twitch is what she gets. And the nose gets a little kiss, a hand pats on Fareeha’s arm, feeling the long black fur, “Alright enough checking. I think you are all accounted for, _mein stern.”_

 

“Are you going out tonight or will you stay here?”

Fareeha tilts her head thinking before adjusting to lay down on the mat. Her tail taps on said mat in a bit of gesture for Angela to join her. It takes a few attempts but she figures out a comfortable enough position that she assumes is the way her new body would lay in appropriately. Angela smiles, more happy than she would like to admit to the fact that they would both stay in the bunker. The doctor takes the blanket and wraps it around herself, sitting against Fareeha. “Okay, if you are sure, I guess going out while you are still missing a few fangs would be a bad idea.”

“You know, I can still see my dashing soldier. I think it must be the eyes and the patch where your tattoo is. It makes me think of the god Anubis,” Angela is looking at the large claw like hand. It was easy to notice there was something eerily similar to fingers. There was a bigger question. She flips Fareeha’s claw over, setting her much smaller hand in it.

 

_Toe Beans._

 

————-||

 

The night passed quickly enough. Only Once or twice did Fareeha stand and make a walk around the bunker restlessly that made her partner nervous, only to return to Angela who would feed her some of the beef jerky, always careful not to lose her fingers in an accident. Fareeha had to practice her walking, her standing, her movements — Her new dimensions were a bit too much to take in, and even then she knew the power she seemed to be packing now. Despite being what Angela insisted was a _puppy_ she knew she could potentially be dangerous. Tonight things would work out perfectly and she would take the chance to learn about her curse.

 

Angela told her that in some three or four moons she would be fully matured, and then she would truly be dangerous. A fully grown werewolf was capable of many things, and so they would be extra careful with ensuring they were in the bunker safely. She told Fareeha she would be able to control her own curse the more time that went by: Some werewolves were recorded to have managed to transform at will on any night, albeit into smaller versions of their full sized, full moon selves. It was a hassle but at least there was hope for them.

 

When Angela woke up it was as if nothing had happened. A naked Fareeha was nestled against her back, spooning the witch close to herself, both sharing a blanket and the mat. The fire had gone out a while ago, and she was ever thankful that her lover was keeping her warm. Like they had simply taken a camping trip and they had gotten a bit rowdy over the night. It made her smile. She had a feeling that things would work out perfectly fine, that this was a change they could adapt to easily, that she could not be any luckier than to have such an understanding and loving partner. They would recover and adapt as they always had.

 

Maybe the shadows of her past would not come back again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah!! An update, roughly 4.8k words long, my longest chapter yet. I hope you enjoy ‘em
> 
> Feel free, as always, to drop and visit by @Aura_Stormgirl on twitter, as now I take Ko-fi requests!


	6. Old skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wilds are a tempting kind of wild.

When she woke up it took her more than five minutes to move.  At first her body did not respond, and all she could do was glance around. She saw what looked like a hobo’s set up inside what she assumed was a cave of sorts. It was hard to tell in the dark, but she can feel some sort of light source to the side. Turning her neck hurts, but she can see someone there. Her hand tries to find anything -- but her rifle is most obviously by this other woman.  All she can produce is a small grunt.

“You know, staring is not polite.” 

The woman turns, picking up a wooden plate and bringing it with herself to the soldier’s side. She must have shown some distrust or something similar, because the blonde shakes her head, “Don’t look so upset. If I wanted to hurt you I could have left you in the debris your people made my home into.” The soldier is propped up, painfully, but successfully. Then, she is fed patiently, “This should remedy your pain some. Not a miracle worker, but it will at least make your existence less painful, soldier.”

 

All this time and not a word from her guest, the woman she found left to die from her injuries in the mess the army and omnics had left was in an infuriating silence. “So? Will you explain yourself? You and your little entourage wrecked my home, the forest, and gods know what else.” The witch stares into her the hazel eyes that still seemed vague and disoriented, while the black hair tied that cascaded well past the soldier’s stiff shoulders. There was a tattoo framing her eye of a glyph she had seen once long ago in the tomes of another mage. Or so she thought. Memory was not her forte.

“My business is confidential, ma’am,” she replies. It's a thick accent, like molasses. She is certainly not from around Switzerland. 

“What is confidential is my now destroyed property.”

The soldier uses her palmed fingertips to push the bowl away, “Thank you, I will be on my way now.”

“You cannot stand up, much less make the walk back to where you belong to. Your men left you to die, and the faster you understand that, the faster you will put aside your bravado and accept you are a dead woman walking.” The witch sets the bowl aside, getting up and picking the soldier’s coat, holding it up with disdain, “What are the Egyptians doing in Swiss soil? They have not ever cared for the small towns around here.” She fists her hand and shakes the coat at the soldier who was quietly looking to her, “You and your men destroyed hundreds of acres! Wildlife and civilized life like! All for a couple of bolted machines you cannot turn off?!” The coat is thrown at the egyptian, who fumbles a bit , catching it with her face, “The gall to say your business is confidential, Miss Amari!”

The soldier reaches for her neck to find the dogtags gone. “Give them back, those are mine.”

“They are mine now till I think you can give me something in exchange for the trouble you caused me,” the tags dangle off the witch’s  pointer finger, utter anger in her expression. “I want responses, I lost many magic books, heirlooms and charms --- I even lost my familiar.”

“....Magic books?”

 

—||

 

Lieutenant Ana Amari. A distinguished sniper and leader who had climbed the ranks at the ripe age of twenty four. She was a lean woman, skin deep bronze, hazel eyes enhanced for the job. Her specialty was strategy, and had only come to this mission because she was requested as back up: assigned to be men’s eyes in the quarrels. She didn’t expect her perch to be knocked over by a bastion tank unit. The sniper fell down many meters through the branches not to mention the tumble when timber hit soil. When Angela found her, she was unconscious and had plenty of broken bones, and had probably narrowly avoided being trampled by other units. Angela had seen the men leave and felt pity for the woman.

 

Her heart was always a weakness.

 

Ana was surprised to find out that the local legends were real: A witch did indeed live in the woods, and would help anyone who stepped in her home asking for it. She  _ did  _ had a thumb for apothecary solutions, and was known to work miracles for those in need.  _ Magic was real. _

 

It took little to convince Angela to return Ana’s belongings. The witch was a deceivingly understanding woman, and had simply been distraught for her loss and taken it out on the soldier she found. Apparently, familiars were a big deal.  Big enough that the swings of Angela’s disposition were akin to losing a family member.

 

As for the sniper, she knew she was stuck here, in the woods away from friendly soil. Angela was right. Her condition was bad to say the least. She was bedridden for a week before able to get up and even  _ think _ of how to pay back Angel for her aid.  Her injuries were certainly improving way better than they would have if she had been left for the medics and twice so if left to her own affairs. And so Ana became a resident while she healed.

 

She learned they were, indeed, in a cave, since the witch’s cabin had been wrecked. Angela had set a few blankets for Ana, and pulled out things like a caldron, some wooden silverware, one or two metal trinket from the ashes. A few times Angela left to try and retrieve materials, anything that may have survived the battle, usually returning empty handed, with shards for kindle. “You know, there is bunkers around here, we could… fashion one into a new home. It will be safe from omnics and … us,” Ana spoke, as always careful, thoughtful. For a woman so young, she spoke like an elder, something Angela found comfort in. 

“A bunker?”

“Yes, the UN built a few in these areas but deserted them when we lost the territory to the omnics. They have the basics, I am sure it would make a good home, especially with winter coming,” Ana nodded crouching by Angela close to the fireplace,” Once I am well enough, We can go to town and bring back what you may need.”

“Why would you go through the trouble,” scoffs the witch.

“You saved my life, the least I could do is help you rebuild the one you lost.”

 

True to her word, Ana lead the witch to a bunker that had been abandoned ages ago. It was cleaning and undusting and a subsequent ferrying of things from the cave there, but  Angela was thrilled to have a bed and a place to more properly cook. Ana was not a good cool, but she was able to sew the damage on the blankets and Angela's clothes with ease. She helped bringing food in from hunts and scavenging. Soon they had enough that they could stock up for the brewing winter confidently.

 

How she loved her new home and how she adored her guest. After losing her familiar, Ana brought comfort and a sense of kinship and partnership. They shared stead for months, sptn the winter together and made a home from the bunker. They grew very close.  Winter was long, but for once, it was not going to be gruelling and lonesome

 

—||

 

Angela remembers how shocked she was when Ana announced she would be leaving.

 

It had been nearly a year. They had gone through much, but had survived the winter. Ana taught Angela about technology and used some military level of improvisation to grant her access to the world, and Angela had taught her about magic and some of the history of it. Their home had become comfortable with chairs and cots close to the wall as sofas, and their contact with the towns had improved enough they’d sometimes trade goods with the shopkeepers. They had truly built a place cozy and warm for themselves.

 

That’s why when Ana left, it hurt so much.

 

—||

 

Ana came to visit often that first year, taking any chance to come back and stay a few days with the reclusive woman. They would watch the stars and have coffee, and Ana always brought something new and interesting for her. It was those visits that made Angela hold hope for seeing the woman often.

 

She saw how Ana aged, how she grew into a mature woman and raised to be a high ranking officer in no time. The visits became less and less frequent.

 

On the last visit, Ana had a wedding ring.

 

—||

 

“Angela, hear me out, please,” Ana pleaded with the witch of the wilds, “I understand you have limited contact with the world, but please consider coming with me.”

 

Ana’s hair had begun to show one or two silvers. The Amari had married and had a baby. She was now a second in command, busy as could be. All time had done to Angela was make her become isolated to the woods and the bunker. Her legend had become one of the witch of the wids, now less approachable than ever. Never did she get another familiar, and never did she leave the bunker.

 

Yet, Ana had come visit her old friend, begged of her to come back to the Headquarters with her.“I understand if you have no interest in seeing me ever again, but you could do more than be isolated your eternity. Listen, I can now pull some strings; you always wanted to be a doctor. We can make it happen, Angela. You won’t have to file papers or anything, I’ll be sure you can get in.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Angela never stopped stirring whatever she was preparing in the pot, letting Ana talk as long as she wanted, not really thinking much of what the soldier said.

“It must be boring to spend your entire existence out here when you are such a brilliant mind. You could be curing so many people who don’t believe in magic,” Ana argues, approaching the Witch, “If you hate me, that’s understandable, but you must know that there is more to life than living in the forest. I promise you will not regret it.”

 

“Allow me a chance, Angela, I am certain you will not regret.”

 

—||

 

Ana held true to her words. Angela was able to enroll into the programs she needed and soon she was excelling like there was no tomorrow. She was able to get the education needed to become a doctor and work where she wanted.

 

While she hadn’t seen Ana often she paid a visit every couple of months. Happy to not have to spend much time with the second in command. 

 

One of those days that she walked in she saw a beautiful woman, chatting with Ana. She had dark hair, caramel skin, kind brown eyes and a tattoo of a glyph she had seen once in ancient tomes. The woman was definitely fit, and a pair of dog tags hanged from her neck. Their talk stopped as Angela came in, both smiling warmly welcoming her in. 

“Sorry I did not mean to intereupt anything,” She remembers stepping in, abashed by this other woman who she had never seen before.

“Angela, this is my daughter, Fareeha. She just transferred from the Egyptian Military into Overwatch.”

Fareeha offered her a strong hand and a half smirk, “Hey.”

 

—||

 

“Hey.”

 

“Ya amar, here's your coffee.”

 

Angela snapped out of her pensive state. She had been sat on a boulder near their bunker, and she turned to Fareeha as she approached her lover. The offered cup is pulled back,”Nuhuh! Payment is upfront.”

The doctor rolls her eyes and leans into peck Fareeha’s cheek. That earns her the cup of coffee and a little tap to scoot over and let her girlfriend sit by her. Her free hand rests on the witch’s thigh, “You’ve been quiet. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. I had forgotten how alluring the wilds are. I was just enjoying some old memories.”

 

Fareeha tilts her head at Angela, confused. The blonde smiles a little, sheepishly, before explaining, “I lived many years in the woods. Here, it is easy to forget yourself, to remember a little too much, and to find something in lonesomeness.” 

The soldier is quiet, thinking on it. She hums, and takes a sip, “I had friends in the military who were deployed to jungle areas. Heavy vegetation, spontaneous rain, only by foot. They told me stories of things they saw and heard there. They said the trees whisper and the soil turns just to get try and get you lost. What you say reminds me of that. How the wilds can tempt the worst out of people.”

“Yes. The wilds are a dangerous place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup


End file.
